Young Adult
What'll Happen to the Kids?
I told her I had a motorcycle. What was I thinking? She was going to laugh when she saw my Vespa, a glorified liquor-cycle, as we used to call them. I don’t know how to drive a motorcycle, but my aunt had this scooter she used to zip around the neighborhood in Alexandria, Virginia. I thought it would be good on gas and could get me out of town.
By Jen Mearns3 years ago in Fiction
Heart shaped locket
Heart shaped locket Chatters, howls, and humid viridescent green shocks me into consciousness as I come to and feel a blanket of moist dirt cushioning my unresponsive body. Shafts of golden sunlight filter down to the forest floor where I lie; the primal part of my mind flags that I am vulnerable and exposed.
By Leigha Thomson3 years ago in Fiction
What'll Happen to the Kids?
It’s been several weeks since Jack and I started living together. That sounds really strange. It’s totally platonic and mutually beneficial to both of us since we have no family left. For a spoiled rich kid, Jack is a great person and knows surprisingly more about survival than I would’ve credited him for.
By Jen Mearns3 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
From outside the treehouse you could hear them weeping. For something built by a couple of nine year olds, the rickety old thing had held up as well as could be expected. The same could be said about the bond between the builders, Talulah and Yamil, who over the years had shared drinks and stories here countless times. Their secret place was one of the last few around, there really were not many surprises in the growing city of Limbo. Over the last decade there were fewer and fewer strange little paths in the woods, abandoned houses to be explored and trees to be climbed. As Talulah has said many times over, the only thing that made one neighbourhood look different from another were the names of streets. It was a dull place.
By Chris Caulfield3 years ago in Fiction
It’s Go Time, Daisy
“How am I supposed to cry myself to sleep if you’re going to sit there judging me?” I shuffled in my sleeping bag and gave Marnie a stern, unappreciative look. Her judgmental eyes stared back at me. They weren’t really eyes, they were x’s I drew on her fabric head when the second of her sewn-on eyes had fallen off.
By Maggie Turner3 years ago in Fiction
The Dispersion
It was simple, silver, and very worn, but it was something that was just mine. These last three years it has been hard to find something to bring me joy, but the small, tarnished, heart-shaped locket tucked down in my pocket does just that. The clasp was broken nearly a year ago during the last Bonding, but feeling the weight of it in my pocket brings me hope, and that is something that is not easy to come by these days.
By Sara Underhill3 years ago in Fiction
Black Summer
Partly the original bits-and-pieces draft that ultimately became the my Superhero Trilogy "Two Sides of the Same Coin", this short story was beaten into something coherent for a charity fundraiser in the wake of the Black Summer Australian bushfires in 2019-2020. A heavily edited version found it’s way into “The Darkness Before the Dawn”, but since it ultimately stood on it’s own, I decided to publish the original version here.
By Natasja Rose3 years ago in Fiction